


Misunderstandings

by IGuessIWriteStuffNow



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute, Davey Is Oblivious, Flower Language, Flower crowns!!!!, Fluff, Getting Back Together, I did one google search, Jack is a very dramatic boy, Jack loves him SO MUCH, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mornings, Mutual Pining, Poor kath has to deal with so much from these two, Sappy and affectionate Jack, Sharing Clothes, So much kissing, aaand here's the final chapter, davey doesn't realize its a date, dear god, dinner date, don't worry its mostly pg, i'm sorry if i got the flower language stuff wrong, its ok dave loves him anyway, overuse of the nickname "jacky", the most domestic thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-08 16:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11085798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IGuessIWriteStuffNow/pseuds/IGuessIWriteStuffNow
Summary: Davey wasn’t quite sure what events in his life had lead up to him sitting perched on his kitchen counter, straddling and making out with his best friend, but he wasn't about to complain.In which Davey doesn't realize he and Jack are dating, which leads to pining, problems, and other unnecessary consequences.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why am i starting another multi-chapter fic when I already have one in progress?  
> because I hate myself
> 
>  
> 
> also I looked up a picture of Sarah Jacobs as an art reference yesterday and she's so beautiful??? I forgot how hot she is???? Wow i'm gay for both the newsbians

Davey wasn’t quite sure which events in his life had lead up to him sitting perched on his kitchen counter, straddling and making out with his best friend. But he wasn't about to complain.

He knew the direct causes, of course: he had been making dinner, and Jack had been bored. The boredom had manifested in him laying kisses on the back of Davey’s neck, and it was _distracting_ , and Davey had had a long day. It didn’t take long for the cooking pasta to be abandoned in favor of kissing Jack. And one thing had led to another…

“Jack-” The word was more of a whine, as Jack trailed his mouth across Davey’s neck and gently bit the place where neck met shoulder. He took noise as encouragement and set to kissing Davey’s collarbone and reaching under his shirt. And not that Davey didn’t like that- he _really_ liked that- but he had been in the middle of cooking, and he hadn’t eaten since noon- “Jack.” He spoke clearer this time, and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder to lightly push him away.

“Somethin’ wrong, Dave?” He leaned away, leaving his hands warm on the patch of skin that had appeared when Davey’s shirt rode up. 

“The pasta will overcook.”

Jack shook his head and pressed a kiss to his jawline. “Let it.”

“Jack-”

He sighed dramatically, still smiling, and took a step back. “Fine.” Davey hopped off the edge of the counter, turning back to the boiling water on the stove. Jack trailed a hand down his side as he stirred, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Finish this after dinner?”

Davey grinned down at the cooking pasta, and hummed. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you’ll set the table.”

Jack chuckled and leaned forward to quickly kiss Davey’s cheek. “You drive a hard bargain, Jacobs.”

“Just get the plates, Jack.”

Even with oven mitts, the pot was still hot in Davey’s hands as he brought it over to the sink. The water cascaded into the colander, its gentle splashing harmonizing with Jack’s quiet humming. Davey’s heart swelled at the sound, and a small smile appeared on his face.

It was stupid- and Davey knew it. There was no way that occasionally making out with your best friend would lead anywhere but trouble. Especially if you had been in love with said best friend since high school. 

But Davey was desperate, and he had had these feelings for _so long_. So when, while watching some movie, Jack had looked at him with a soft smile, and kissed him, Davey had kissed back. And when Jack pulled away, and murmured a simple “Was that alright?” against his lips, all Davey could do was nod and kiss him again.

They never talked about it. David would be lying if he said he hadn’t had a fleeting hope, the first time Jack’s lips pressed against his, that it would be the precursor to a real relationship. But following the kiss was normalcy for two days, before that was broken by a session of making out with Jack on their old couch. The cycle repeated for a week or so before things evened out to a fairly normal schedule of kissing interspersed in their daily lives of homework and real work and chores.

And Davey didn’t mind the kissing- _of course,_ he didn’t mind the kissing, he _loved_ the kissing, but it still hurt. Yet that pain was so little in comparison to the way the small, domestic things seemed to tear at his heart. Because making out was so physical; Davey understood it didn’t mean anything, to Jack at least. But then they would hold hands over the table at breakfast, and Jack would leave Davey little doodles signed with his name and a heart, and kiss Davey’s forehead, or cheek, or shoulder, or even his lips, for a quick second, before pulling away with a grin and a gleam in his eye that Davey wanted, so badly, to identify as loving, but knew he couldn’t.

Because no matter how domestic they acted, no matter how much Davey loved him, it was all physical for Jack. 

“What’s so interestin’ about that pasta?” Jack’s voice snapped Davey out of his thoughts. “You’ve been starin at it so long I’m beginning to think ya’ saw the face a’ Jesus in there.”

“Jesus would have to be pretty confused to appear in a Jewish guy’s spaghetti,” Davey answered, forcing an amused grin back onto his features. He carried the drained pasta out to the table, where Jack had already set out the tomato sauce and parmesan. 

Jack sat down across from Davey and immediately began serving himself spaghetti. “I dunno, Dave. Maybe he’s tryin’ ta convert you. Holy mission and all that.” David laughed and took his fair share of the meal. “Great pasta,” Jack commented, mouth full with food. It was hardly a minute into dinner and he’d already managed to get tomato sauce on his cheek. To be fair, it nicely complemented the splotch of red paint that had somewhat miraculously landed under his right eyebrow.

“That is a result of not letting it overcook,” Davey commented, smug, before reaching over to wipe the sauce off the corner of Jack’s mouth. He laughed and pushed Davey away, but not before grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together.

“‘s pretty romantic, Davey,” Jack teased. “Italian food, holdin’ hands… we get a couple a’ candles and it's a real date.” 

Davey laughed, but he knew it sounded forced. He hated when Jack joked about stuff like that. “Does it seem that way? I wouldn't know, since someone never takes me out to restaurants.”

“Come on, Dave. You know you love me.” To punctuate the end of the sentence, he raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed Davey’s knuckles. 

Davey shook his head but didn't pull his hand away, despite the racing of his heart. He just sat, letting his fingers stay wrapped in Jack’s warm hand throughout the course of the meal.

 

 

“Are you staying here tonight?” Davey murmured against Jack’s mouth. He was immediately silenced with another kiss, as Jack shifted on the bed to face him better.

“Whattaya think?” He took that as a yes, and moved closer to Jack so they were flush with each other. Jack’s fingers slipped under his shirt, trailing his nails over Davey’s spine. They wouldn’t go much farther than this- Davey always stopped it, and Jack was always fine with it. But he hated having to stop. He wanted nothing more than to take Jack apart with his hands and his lips, and to put him back together in just the same way. To see him shirtless and breathing heavily, shooting him a grin that seemed to glow. To pull him against his chest, trace his spine with his fingertips, and do it all over again.

But he couldn’t do any of that. He knew himself well enough that if he had sex with Jack, with no love behind it, it would destroy him.

“Put on pajamas,” Davey ordered. The paint splattered jeans kept rubbing against his calves, and he had too many times throughout the years put up with that discomfort from the boy who seldom remembered to bring pajamas to a sleepover. If Jack insisted on kissing Davey and making his heart flutter and break with every press of lips, he could change his clothes at night.

Apparently, Jack disagreed. A high-pitched whine pervaded the air between them. “Not now, Dave-”

“Yes now.” Davey had been trying to pull away from him, but Jack was pouting and he was too goddamn cute. Davey kissed him again. “Your room is literally just across the hall.”

“Too far.” Jack pressed his lips to the corner of Davey’s eyes. “Can I just-”

“Jack Kelly, you are not sleeping naked in my bed.” 

He rolled to the side and groaned, looking up at Davey and _still pouting_. “I don’t wanna move.”

Davey let out a ragged sigh. It was loud and overdramatic, but so was Jack, always. David thought it was all fair. “Fine,” He conceded, and Jack grinned. “No, you still aren’t sleeping naked.” The grin fell. “Just… borrow something of mine.” He watched as Jack rifled through his drawers, taking far too many things out of their neatly folded piles before eventually picking something out. He began to change, Davey forced his eyes away staring deliberately down at his lap and trying not to let his gaze wander upwards at all.

“You can turn around now, Dave.” Davey’s head snapped up when he heard his name said, and was immediately silenced by the sight in front of him. The fabric of the fuzzy pajama pants was bunched around Jack’s feet, a testament to his (relative) shortness. The shirt was pulled taut around his chest, defining his shoulders in a way that Davey decided should definitely be illegal. There was something about Jack in Davey’s pajamas that was beautiful and breathtaking and horribly attractive. “You didn’t really have ta’ turn away in the first place. I don’t mind if you stare, I know I’m hot.” Jack draped himself over Davey’s lap, gently pressing a kiss to his lips.

Davey hummed against Jack’s mouth. “I’m not sure if I do know that.” Jack laughed and went back to kissing him. Davey trailed his hands over Jack’s shoulders and arms, taking in the way he smelled like paint and spaghetti sauce and vanilla-scented shampoo. It was a scent that Davey would always associate with safety and love. Even if Jack would never love Davey the way he loved him. With that thought like a dull knife cutting through his brief happiness, he pushed away from Jack. “We need to go to sleep.” The words were an excuse, and it was obvious. The way he immediately glanced back down at Jack’s lips was a dead giveaway. He was begging himself to just kiss him and continue to pretend, but it was a bit too real at the moment. “We- we have class tomorrow.”

Jack could sense his worry- because he was that sort of amazingly attentive- and didn’t push it. “I guess you’re right.” He kissed Davey’s nose, and Davey could feel his face heat up. “’Night, Dave.”

“’Night.” He reached over and switched his lamp off, grateful that his red face was hidden when the space was plunged into darkness. He fell back onto the bed and was immediately encompassed by Jack’s arms. As Jack laced their fingers together, he smiled, a warmth blooming in his chest caused by more than just body heat.

“Davey…” Jack murmured in his ear. They had been in the dark for no more than five minutes, and yet he already sounded half asleep. “I’ve been thinkin’-”

“Yeah?”

“Well it’s just- ya know Dave, that after all this time, I think that I, well, that I l-” A sigh. “Nevermind.”

Davey squeezed the hand held in his. “What is it?”

“It ain’t important.” There was a jovial tone in Jack’s voice that Davey could tell was not completely unfeigned. “I’ll tell ya tomorrow.”

Davey paused, still curious, before relenting. “Alright.” He hoped Jack would say something else, but he didn’t. “Goodnight, again.”

“Goodnight, again,” Jack parroted back, followed by a yawn that confirmed how close to sleep he really was. After a few minutes, Davey could feel the gentle rise and fall of the sleeping boy’s chest as it was pressed against his back.

Davey knew he would mess up one of these days. One day, it would be obvious to even the most oblivious of Jack Kellys that the way he felt for him ran much deeper than simple physical desire. And when that day came, it would ruin everything: the friendship they had shared for years, and whatever strangely domestic, friends-with-benefits type situation they had now. And he wanted, so much, to live out this fantasy for as long as he could, but that was unfair to Jack, and he knew it. Davey was taking advantage of him, because Jack surely wouldn’t want to spend his days casually making out with a boy who was in love with him.

Davey had to end it. His heart ached as he thought about how much he would miss it all: the kissing, and touching, and holding hands. But it had to be done. He didn’t need this, not like he needed Jack’s friendship. And he knew he couldn’t have both forever, so there was only one thing he could do.

 _Tomorrow_ , he vowed, as he felt himself slip away to sleep, _I_ will _end things with Jack._

_It’s better that way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, look forward to: Jack POV, Jack gushing about how much he loves Davey, arguments, and other angsty shit. (don't worry, i'm too much of a sap to not give this a happy ending)  
> Also I'm salty cause my English teacher doesn't like my writing style and took points off my creative writing project (the only creative writing we've done all year, btw, and it was _alchemist fanfic_ ) and refuses to actually help me fix it and improve my writing. So please give me validation or actual creative criticism to help me get better at writing this trash. Either way, I'll like and respect you much more than my English teacher.  
> Have an amazing day!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with some fluff and some angst and a whole lot of dramatic irony  
> It's Jack's POV, and god, does this boy love Davey

Jack Kelly was in love with Davey Jacobs.

It was nothing new for him to wake up with that specific thought buzzing through his mind. But it was only recently that he got to regularly wake up not only with that thought, but also with the boy curled up beside him. 

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, hitting Davey’s cheek and making his pale skin seem to glow. Jack grinned down at the boy, and brushed a thumb over his cheekbone. When Davey didn’t stir, he trailed the finger down to the corner of his lips, which were parted as he breathed. The air passed in through his nose and out through his mouth, its gentle, soothing sound pervading the room. Next, he moved his fingertips up to the corner of Davey’s eye, dancing over the smooth skin where there were, in the day, far too many wrinkles caused by concentration and stress. He loved seeing Davey asleep- he loved seeing Davey, regardless. The unconscious state eased his features into a relaxation Jack rarely got to witness. But, if it was up to him, he would ensure that Dave always got to live in such a state of peace.

Somewhere in the midst of his exploration of Davey’s face, the eyes of the admired boy began to open. He glanced, confused, over at Jack, before a lazy smile settled on his lips. “Morning, Jack.”

“Morning, Dave.” Sleep had ruffled Davey’s hair and pushed his shirt up to reveal the pale expanse of his stomach. Jack brushed his fingers over the skin. “Sleep well?”

Davey smiled and leaned into Jack's touch. “Pretty much.” Davey wrapped his arms tight around his body, and Jack responded by softly kissing him. “Brush your teeth first,” Davey ordered, pushing back against his chest with gentle fingertips. 

“So high-maintenance, Davey. You make it so hard ta’ be romantic.” Jack stood, feeling the blanket slide off of his hips. He stretched, his back to Davey and his arms extended over his head; the move accentuated his shoulders. He hoped Davey was watching. “You want me to make breakfast?”

Davey’s dry laugh rang out from behind him. “It doesn’t count as ‘making breakfast’ if it’s just cereal.”

“You insinuating I ain’t a good cook?” Jack turned, a hand on his chest in mock offense. “For the record, I’m the _best_ cook.”

“Says the man who tried to get me to let the pasta overcook so he could continue making out with me.”

Jack was standing next to him by then, one hand on his hip. There was a smile on his lips as he mentally recounted the kiss from yesterday. Davey straddling him? The highlight of his week. “That’s my priorities, Dave. Not my cooking ability. Now,” he declared, leaning over to kiss Davey’s cheek. “I’m gonna make you the best goddamn cereal you’ve ever had.”

Davey laughed and looped his arms around Jack’s neck. “That a promise?” Their faces were dangerously close, and Jack decided, _screw toothbrushing, I want to kiss my boyfriend._ This time, it lasted a few more seconds before Davey lightly pushed him away. “Brush your teeth, Kelly.” Even as he complained, he was already leaning back into to press another quick kiss to his lips, before walking away. “I’m going to take a quick shower. I’m sure you’ll need all that time to prepare breakfast?” He teased.

“Like I said. Best. Goddamn. Cereal.” He could just hear Davey’s bark of laughter through the closing bathroom door. Jack waited until he could hear the shower water pattering against the floor and he knew Davey wouldn’t be coming back for a few minutes. Then, slowly, he brought his hands up to his lips, grinning like an idiot.

He had been dating Davey for a few weeks, but every kiss still felt like an illusion. The first time he’d pressed his lips to Dave’s- he still didn’t know how he’d gathered the courage to do it- he had fully expected Davey to push him away, reject him, and never speak to his sorry, pining ass again. 

But he _hadn’t_. Davey had returned the kiss, and then kissed him again, and again, and again. And every time, Jack was sure that Dave would change his mind, and come to the realization that he was far too good for Jack, and end it. But every time, he just pulled away with a gentle smile, and it was amazing, and perfect, and beautiful.

Jack walked out of the room, and, seeing as Davey was using the bathroom to shower, he couldn’t brush his teeth as he had planned to. Instead, he headed to the kitchen to make the Best Goddamn Cereal.

Specifically, to make Best Goddamn Cereal for his boyfriend.

His boyfriend, Davey Jacobs.

Davey Jacobs, whom he loved.

Davey Jacobs, who just might love him back.

 

 

“What’re you working on?” Jack pulled out one of his earbuds as he noticed Davey sitting down next to him. He had to move over so that they would both fit on the small bench in front of his work surface. It was a close fit, but he never minded being close to Dave.

After prying his eyes away from his boyfriend’s face long enough to register the question, he gestured at the paper sitting in front of him. It was completely blank aside from a few stray pencil lines, and various printed pictures of flowers scattered randomly across the surface. “Big project for class. It’s some bullshit about painting flowers that show our emotions.” The eraser of the pencil made a dull, _thump_ sound as he tapped it against the paper. “It’s the end a’ the year. I think the teachers don’t give a shit anymore, which is why they’re assignin’ us stuff like this.” Jack tried to be flippant about the assignment, and he thought he pulled it off really well. But he would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent a good hour the night the project was assigned looking up the meanings of different flowers. Specifically, which flowers meant things like: _happiness, desire_ , and, of course, _love_.

He had been meaning to tell Davey that he loved him for some time by then. He almost had, the previous night, but the words had died on his tongue the moment he tried to speak them. Because he and Dave never really talked about their relationship. Between the two of them, Davey was the one who dealt in words, and he hadn’t brought it up. So who was Jack to? 

But Jack had kept the feeling bottled for so long, and knowing himself, he was likely to eventually express it in some completely ridiculous way. Something along the lines of dedicating a school project to his immense love for Davey Jacobs.

Said boy was currently leaning his head on Jack’s shoulder, looking every bit as tired and adorable as he had in the morning, even though it was near four in the afternoon by then. “So, what flower represents your emotions, Jacky?”

“Not sure. I guess, um-” He started, trying to think of one that Davey was unlikely to know the meaning of. He pointed to the picture in the corner. “Holly,”- _domestic happiness_ \- “Coral roses, maybe,” _sexual desire_ , “Or, maybe red carnations?” _love. Pure love._ “I dunno, Dave. I don’t even know what flowers _mean_ -”

“So that was just an arbitrary list you spouted off to me?” Davey grinned at him, eyebrows raised. Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile as well. Davey was too clever to be fooled by his bullshit, and Jack loved that about him.

Jack shook his head. “Coral roses mean desire, Davey. Maybe I wanna do my whole project about how much I adore makin’ out with you. I’m sure my teacher would appreciate that.”

Davey laughed and shook his head. The red of his face nearly matched the color of the carnations Jack had printed out on his desk. “What do the others mean?”

“Hey, I ain’t allowed to keep my flower-feelings a secret?” He leaned over his paper and covered it with a hand to keep it out of Davey’s sight, though there was nothing on the page. “And anyways, you’re supposed to be a genius. You tell me what the flowers mean.”

“I’m smart- I’m not fluent in flower language. There’s a difference.” Davey tapped his fingers on the wood of the desk. “So, your plan is to base an entire project around sexual desire?”

Jack responded to Davey’s teasing smile with one of his own. “Maybe, Dave. You saying you don’t think I can do a whole project about how sexy you are?” 

Davey’s laugh was accompanied by his wrists moving to rest on Jack’s shoulders, pulling him so that they were face to face. “I mean, that depends on how sexy you think I am.” 

Davey was practically in his lap by then, and heavy breathing was the only sound audible in the room as Jack slowly trailed his fingers over the sides of Davey’s thighs. When he leaned forward and asked: “Want me to show you?”, his voice was a soft whisper.

Davey ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes fixated on Jack’s mouth for a few seconds. Then, slowly, he trailed his eyes up to meet Jack’s, and whispered: “Please.” And if that wasn’t an invitation to make out, Jack didn’t know what was. Jack had brushed his teeth, there was no food on the stove at the moment, and he couldn’t think of any reason not to kiss his boyfriend. So he leaned in, and carefully, slowly, pressed his lips to Dave’s. 

_Time,_ Jack decided as he lightly bit Davey’s ear, _is a bullshit concept invented by society to keep people from making out with their boyfriends for all eternity._ That being said, he had no idea how long he had been kissing Davey for, only that they had somehow ended up on the floor amongst scattered pencils and paper, with Dave’s long legs tangled around his. The fabric of Davey’s shirt was stiff in his hand as he pulled it aside to reveal a shoulder speckled with brown dots from time in the sun. When Jack moved to press his lips to the array of freckles, he felt Davey’s face bury his face in Jack’s hair, whispering something he couldn’t quite hear.

Jack grazed the back of his hand over Davey’s jawline, smiling as looked into his boyfriend’s eyes. But the blue eyes that had, just a while before, been light and happy, were darker- sadder. Jack felt the smile drop from his face as he cupped Dave’s face in hand. “Hey, Dave, you okay?”

He nodded, but the expression on his face- heartbreak?- remained. “Kiss me.” He paused, then added: “Please.”

Jack was all too happy to oblige the request, but not without some concern. He kept his movement of lips slow against Davey’s, his hand resting on the back of his boyfriend’s neck, while the other stroked Dave’s spine. He had never been good at using words to comfort people, but he was proud to say that his tactile nature could be utilized to help people relax. And the way Davey’s shoulders lost their tension as Jack continued to kiss him seemed to prove his skill.

Time- which was still fake, Jack reminded himself- seemed to slow as they kissed. There was an uncomfortable feeling settling in Jack’s stomach, a terrible sense of _finality_ that Jack immediately tried to shake off. Because Davey was just sad or stressed- God knows if there was a time that kid _wasn’t_ stressed- and that didn’t mean- he wasn’t about to-

“I can’t do this.” The murmur against Jack’s lips caused his stomach to twist. His throat was parched and he shook his head, because he didn't understand. Surely he’d misheard. Davey wouldn’t- 

“What’d ya’ say, Dave?” He moved his face away from Dave’s, smile as fake as his calm. But even he could hear the way his voice cracked out of fear halfway through the sentence. He tried to reach out and take Davey’s face in his hand, but the boy flinched away. Jack immediately backed off, sitting up and away from Dave.

“This, Jacky-” He gestured between the two of them, but they were so close that when pointing out Jack, he brushed his fingers across his chest. “I can’t.”

“You can’t _what_ , Davey?” He knew what, he knew exactly what. But Jack Kelly was the optimist to match Davey’s realism, and he let himself hope, for however fleeting the time would be, that what they had wasn’t about to end.

“I can’t- what’s between us, Jacky. I can’t do it anymore.” The nickname that he usually loved was tainted by a voice of pity and sadness it was carried on. Davey sounded close to tears, and Jack wanted nothing more than to pull the boy to his chest and run his fingers through the dark hair as Davey told him everything that was wrong. But he couldn’t. Not anymore.

Jack was still smiling, even as his eyebrows furrowed and his heart clenched. That was how he had learned to hide his emotions- smile as you crumble. “I don’t- I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t.” The voice was almost bitter, as if there was something Jack was supposed to know, but he couldn’t figure out. _Well, sorry Dave that I didn’t realize you were only dating me out of pity a few weeks ago and saved you the trouble of breaking up with me._ Jack nearly gagged when the thought ran through his mind, because _my god, that was_ exactly _what Dave had been doing._ “I just- it hurts. I can’t keep doing this.”

“So it’s just over- so you’re just ending it?” _Pathetic._ He sounded _so fucking pathetic_.

Davey glanced up at him. The blue of his eyes sparkled with tears, yet the expression was no less determined than Jack had learned to expect from him. “I’m not going to let this ruin our friendship.”

Jack nodded, numb. Had it been nearly anyone else, he would’ve fought back- arguing his side, trying to make the other person understand- but he couldn’t with Davey. Not about something like this. “Alright, Dave.”

 _There must be something really interesting about that carpet,_ Jack thought, a mere attempt to humor himself as he felt his heart shattering. _for the fact that he’s spent the last few minutes staring at it._ “Jacky-” He started, and Jack wished he would stop using the goddamn nickname. “I’m going to go to my parent’s apartment now.”

“Alright, Dave.” He echoed his previous words. Any other words- pleads, cries, fruitless love confessions, stuck in his throat. And he was glad for that. He didn’t need to fuck this up more than he already had.

Davey nodded, and stood, and left.

And just like he had that morning- god, it seemed like so much longer than that- Jack waited until he was sure Davey was gone, and then brought his hand up to his mouth. He brushed the fingers over his lips, trying to remember exactly what it felt like to have them touched by Davey’s. The memory was escaping fast, and he desperately tried to cling to it. But then, in a moment, stopped. Maybe it would be better to forget. Part of him wished- fervently, terribly- that he could just let go of any recollection of kissing Davey, touching him, sleeping wrapped around him. Because how could he continue with his life, knowing what it felt like to date Davey Jacobs, but never being able to look at him that way again?

He closed his eyes, and inhaled, hating the way the breath sounded like a sob. 

His legs moved of their own accord, carrying him over to his work table. He stared down at the printed pictures of flowers: holly, coral roses, red carnations. The paper references and all the meaning he had placed on them, so uselessly, brought a choked laugh out of his mouth. Tears trailed down his face as he tore at the images, taking a cruel pleasure in their destruction. 

The picture of the holly was the first to be ripped. _Domestic happiness- gone_.

Shreds of coral rose were the next to fall to the floor. _Desire- unrequited._

He picked up the picture of the red carnations, examining the way the light hit their petals, so delicate and intricate, a natural work of art. It was crushed into a ball in his fist.

_Fuck red carnations._

Surrounded by the confetti of what was, half an hour ago, a source of hope and happiness, he laid his head down on the table, not even caring that his tears were wetting the paper. _I’m so fucking melodramatic,_ he acknowledged, hating himself for it. _Probably one of the reasons Dave left me._ Davey- perfect, beautiful Davey. Jack was so _stupid_ to think that a guy like Dave could ever really have feelings for him. It was all out of pity, and now even that was gone, replaced by… nothing.

He picked at a scrap of the holly printout, shaking his head as the paper caught underneath his dirty fingernails. He would make dinner alone that night, and wake up alone the next morning, and make his own cereal before taking himself to class. All. Alone.

And throughout all of it, one person would be drifting through his mind. Specifically, his ex-boyfriend, Davey Jacobs.

Davey Jacobs, whom he loved.

Davey Jacobs, who, he now knew, never loved him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoop this needs more editing but I'm tired and need to study for finals next week (idk why my history and English teachers won't accept this ~~newsies fanfic~~ historical literature as a grade I can use instead of taking the final- but I guess that's not how grades work. Oh well.)
> 
> I feel like this might have been OOC and I'll probably go back and edit it when I add the final chapter (look forward to Kath talking some sense into these oblivious boys, more fucking flower paintings, and fluff)
> 
> So yeah I hope you all enjoyed, thank you so much for your comments on my last chapter, please leave me more i check my email quite frequently for those, and I hope you guys are all having amazing, less stressful days than I am


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andddd heres the end  
> this isn't as perfect as i wanted it to be but it has been too long since i've posted, so im just going to do it  
> sorry for the wait, finals have been killing me  
> but i'm done!!! yay!!!  
> i want to say ill write more cause of summer but my parents are making me do a 7 week coding program so who knows *annoyed shrug*
> 
> anyway I hope you enjoy; it does switch POV about halfway through. you should be able to tell

Jack was ignoring him.

It had been almost a week since Davey had ended their… whatever it was they had, and Jack had hardly looked at him since. He’d spent a night at his parents’ apartment- they were nice enough to not question the sudden need for a place to stay- before returning to his apartment. And Jack hadn’t even acknowledged he was there.

He knew about Davey’s feelings. He had to know. Davey was so _obvious_ \- he’d been on the verge of tears when he’d broken up with Jack. And Jack was smart, and knew what it looked like to lie. It would hardly be a leap to figure out that Davey had feelings for him. Jack was probably furious at Davey for using him. He was just lucky that Jack hadn’t asked him to move out.

He sighed, looking down at his computer. The English paper he’d been trying to write for the past two hours sat blank on the screen. He tried again to get something down on the page, but his mind was empty except for the image of Jack’s face, scrunched with anger, whenever he saw Davey.

“David Jacobs.” A very irritated female voice broke him out of his thoughts- the voice of the infamous Katherine Plumber. Who was currently striding towards him. He immediately sat up straighter and tried to look as innocent as possible. Katherine was one of his closest friends, but she could be quite intimidating when she wanted to be, and she definitely wanted to be then.

“Hi, Kath.” He tried to keep his voice low, aware that they were actually in a library. The way she had greeted him earlier suggested that she wasn't.

She pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. “You need to talk to Jack.” Her eyes were narrowed and her voice was stern. This was business Kath, not friend Kath. There was a very serious difference.

Davey sighed and put his chin in his hands. He wasn’t sure exactly what Jack had told her of the situation, but knowing their closeness, he assumed it was a lot. “Can’t really do that, seeing as he’s ignoring me.” He hated that he sounded bitter, but he _was_ a somewhat bitter. He shouldn’t be. It was all his fault.

“He’s ignoring you because you hurt him.” Davey scoffed and shook his head. He should have known that would not be taken well by Katherine. Her frown deepened and her eyebrows furrowed. “Look, Davey, I have been dealing with a moping Jack Kelly for nearly seven days now. You know how bad this drama boy can be at any time, not even when he is particularly angsty. I missed a date with Sarah to listen to him waxing poetic about heartbreak and flower language while painting wilted flowers- wilted flowers, Davey.” Her louder-than-library-appropriate voice was assisted by an array of very animated hand motions. “I can’t take another one of his rants. I really can’t. You-” She poked a finger at Davey’s chest. “Have to fix this. As soon as possible.”

Davey wasn’t exactly sure what she had meant by _heartbreak_ , so he decided to ignore it. Jack was known to have a flair for the dramatic, and it would be no stretch for him to claim heartbreak after something as simple as the end of a glorified friends-with-benefits relationship. “Kath, I can’t fix it. Jack’s not even speaking to me- he probably hates me now, so what’s the point?” 

“You could stab that boy through the chest and he still would adore you. He doesn’t hate you.” David smiled tightly and shook his head. Maybe Jack didn’t hate him, but he was still mad, and that was still Davey’s fault. “Davey…” Kath started again, a bit of sadness leaking into her stern expression. “I understand if you don’t want to be with Jack. That is your decision. But please don’t let this ruin your friendship. You are _so good_ for him, and he’s so good for you. Jack is a mess as it is, and he needs you to keep himself from making even worse decisions than he would otherwise. Not to mention he’s a total disaster when you don’t talk to him- like we’re seeing now.” She sighed again. “Look, don’t date him if you don’t want to, but please try to fix this.”

“The problem isn’t that I don’t want to date him.” Davey wondered what Kath’s idea of “dating” was, if she constituted what he and Jack had had as being together. “I don’t want to be with him the way he wants.” He’s blushing as he says it. Surely Jack has already told her that Davey caught feelings- feelings that ruined their friend-with-benefits-type relationship. But it still felt weird to talk about.

It seemed impossible that Jack hadn’t already told Katherine everything, so why was she looking so confused? Her eyebrows were narrowed, lips fixed in an open mouth smile that he suspected was forced. “What do you mean, ‘the way he wants’?”

“I don’t just want a physical relationship, Kath.” He hated how needy he sounded as he spoke the words. “If I’m dating someone, I need to _actually_ be dating them, with emotions and love- everything.”

“I- I don’t understand-” She paused, thinking for a second. Her eyebrows raised and she leaned back into her chair, understanding dancing over her features. “Did you tell him that?”

“No, I-”

“Why didn’t you?” She interrupted, clearly trying to get to the point. Davey didn’t exactly blame her; he too wanted to know what she had figured out.

He pushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear, needing something to do with his hands. “I didn’t want him to know that I l- that I… had feelings for him. He doesn’t return them, so I thought it would be easier to just end it than to ruin whatever’s left of our friendship by telling him the truth.”

“So, to clarify, you and Jack never actually discussed your relationship, at all?” Davey nodded, slow. Kath put her head in her hands. “Jesus Christ,” She moaned, not lifting her face from her palms. “The two of you are a goddamn disaster. How to hell do you survive without me?”

“I don’t- Kath, what are you talking about?”

“Okay, Davey, I’m going to spell this out for you. It might be a bit tricky for you to figure out at first, so listen closely.” Her tone was even more dry and sarcastic than usual- dealing with Jack on her own must have taken a toll. “You,” She puts one palm out. “And Jack,” The other palm, “were dating.” She clasped her hands together.

Davey was quiet for a few seconds, staring blankly at Kath, before shaking his head and letting out a nervous laugh. “No- no we were not. I would know if I was dating someone.”

“Clearly, you wouldn’t!” She threw her hands in the air, before bringing them back down to the table. “I’m going to tell the story from what I think happened, knowing what both you and Jack told me.” She cleared her throat, and Davey could just watch and listen. “So, Jack kisses you randomly a few weeks ago, right?” He nodded. “Okay, so, following that, the two of you don’t actually discuss the kiss, instead choosing to dance around the issue and make out randomly. Since your feelings are not actually discussed, you both gather different views of how the situation is played out, based on your natural outlooks. You’re a realist, Davey, so naturally, you don’t want to automatically expect that, because Jack kissed you, he loves you- even though it’s a more than fair assumption. Jack, on the other hand, is an optimist, and since you kissed him back, he assumes that the two of you are now dating.”

Davey could feel the color drain from his face as she spoke. He began to feel nauseous. “No- no. That’s not…” But it did make sense. Jack _was_ an optimist, and a romantic- as much as he hated to admit it- it was _exactly_ something Jack would do to expect them to be in a relationship. And if Kath, to whom he told _everything_ , was under the impression they were dating… Then Davey really fucked up.

“So you two carry on like this for a few weeks,” Kath continued, ignoring Davey’s denial. “And despite being in an incredibly close, undeniably domestic relationship with Jack that involves lots of kissing, you still think you’re just friends-with-benefits or something. And you feel really bad for yourself and your guilty conscience tells you to break up with him so that you aren’t using him- knowing you, that was your line of thought. So you end it, thinking that you’re fixing things. But, really, you just made the boy who loves you think that you don’t love him back, and that you were dating him out of pity that whole time.” She stopped for a moment, giving Davey time to process. “And that last part wasn’t my assumption. He told me that himself.”

“I- That can’t-” _Fuck. If she’s right, then… Jack loves him. Jack loves him and Davey broke his heart._ He felt sick.

“He was going to do that stupid flower project about you.”

“I know.” Davey remembered what Jack had told him- _Coral roses mean desire, Davey._ Because that’s what Jack had wanted. David was sure about that. But now...

“He was so excited when he told me.” Davey wasn’t sure if she was trying to make him feel bad or not, but if she was, it was working. But Katherine wasn't cruel. She just cared for Jack, and she wanted him happy more than anyone, except maybe Davey. Except, lately, he hadn't been doing too good of a job of showing that care. “He told me the meanings for all of them, which he wanted to use... Do you even know what they meant?”

“Coral roses mean desire. That’s the only one he told me about.”

“Of course that would be the only one he shared the meaning of,” Kath grumbled. “Look up what the others mean, Davey. I’ll give you a hint: he loves you, Davey. So much.” Davey was close to tears already, and her words caused the water in his eyes to overflow and trace a line down his face.

“And I love him.” 

Katherine smiled- really smiled- for what was probably the first time in the conversation. “I’m not the person you need to tell that to.” She stood up, smoothing her skirt of the wrinkles it had amassed while she was seated. Her smile grew wider, almost teasing. “But seriously- thank your god that I’m here to sort the two of you out. I expect to be the best woman at your wedding for this.” 

Davey laughed. The back of his hand was soft against his cheek as he wiped away the tear that had fallen. “No promises, Kath. We have to see how well this goes over first.”

“Davey, it’ll be fine.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling, then leaned forward to whisper to him. “But if you hurt him again, I’ll fucking kill you.” 

He swallowed tightly. “Noted.”

“Good.” She started to turn, leaving him with a wave and a likely too loud: “Best of luck, Davey.”

He watched her go, her long pink skirt fluttering behind her. Once she was out of sight, Davey opened his laptop and pulled up a new tab on Google chrome. The search bar laid empty for few moments as he tapped his fingernails against the table. Then, moving his hands to the keyboard, he typed in two words.

_Flower Language_

  
*********  


Jack was being dramatic.

This wasn't anything new for him, of course, but he felt like the quality peaked as he stomped around his room. He didn’t actually have any reason to be moving around at all; he had all of his paints and his references by the easel. But the stomping persisted.

He knew why he was doing it. As the sound of the heavy footfalls ricocheted off the walls, he hoped that Davey would hear and think about him. It was pathetic. Davey had hardly looked at him in the past week, and Jack understood why. It was awkward, living with your ex. But did he really have to pretend Jack didn’t exist? 

Jack brushed a few violet lines across the canvas before going back to walking in angry circles around the room. The unopened package of cigarettes was heavy in his pocket. He had quit smoking months ago, not that that had stopped him from going out and buying a pack the day after Davey dumped him. He had no real plan of starting again, but he knew how much Dave hated the habit. And, as pitiful as it was, he wanted Davey to notice and scold him.

He wanted Dave to care enough to notice.

The canvas in front of his bloomed in dark purples and greens as he painted more details on the falling petals of a dying flower- yes, he was drawing dying flowers. Kath had already informed him of how pathetic it was.

A sudden knock came from the wooden frame of his door, and the paintbrush slipped from Jack’s calloused fingers, leaving an unattractive streak down the side of the canvas. Jack frowned and bent to pick up, turning once he stood. 

He knew perfectly well that it would be Davey at his door. One couldn’t be best friends with someone for years and not know the way their footfalls creaked against wood floors. But seeing Davey stood awkwardly in his doorway, one hand behind his back while the other was tapping anxiously on the doorframe was still startling enough to force Jack to step back. “I’m sorry,” he said, and Jack thought for a moment that he was apologizing for the breakup, but then he gestured at the paintbrush in Jack’s hand. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”

“’S fine.” Jack waved his hand dismissively. “Do ya’ need me?”

“No- I mean, yes-” Davey shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable standing just outside the room while Jack was inside, already mixing paint again. Jack felt bad, leaving him out there, and signaled for him to enter. “I want to talk to you.”

“You’re doing that now, Dave.” Jack pulled a cigarette out of the pack, biting in between his teeth. He had no idea where in his apartment matches or a lighter might be hidden, but he didn’t care. The mixture of concern and annoyance on Davey’s face was far more satisfying than a smoke would be.

Davey tapped his fingers over the covers on Jack’s bed. “Jacky-” _God_ , the nickname. Did he want to make Jack’s heart hurt? “I thought you quit smoking. Those things aren’t good for you.”

“Well, you ain’t good for me neither, but here you are.” Jack kept his eyes focused on the canvas as he spoke, but couldn’t help his gaze darting over to Davey, and noticing the hurt crossing over his face. A painful mix of guilt and pleasure pooled in Jack’s stomach. “Look, Dave. I’m kind of in the middle of somethin’, so if you could spit out whatever it is you wanna say, I need to get back to my painting.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Davey paused, and Jack noted how his eyes were pointedly fixed away from him. Which often meant he was lying or avoiding a certain topic. What did Dave want to tell him that was making him so uncomfortable? He wasn’t going to ask Jack to leave, was he? No, no, he wouldn’t. He was the one who was all about preserving their friendship- unless that was just an excuse to soften the blow of the breakup. Jack would remain optimistic, and tell himself it wasn’t. “Jack…” Davey started again, then paused. He looked up so his eyes were meeting Jack’s “I- when I said ‘talk’, I didn’t really mean- no, no, I do want to talk!- but I wanted to, um give you these-” Davey finally brought forward the hand that had been hiding behind his back, a hand holding a small collection carnations roughly as bright red as Davey’s face.

Jack swallowed, but his throat was dry. There were twists in his stomach and he felt vaguely sick. His first instinct was to take the flowers and kiss Davey- but then again, he apparently had a history of misunderstanding the other boy’s words and actions. Instead, he just stared at Davey for a few seconds, before asking, “What the fuck, Dave.”

“I looked up what they mean,” Dave confessed, looking away pulling the carnations back to his chest as he realized Jack wasn’t taking them.

“And what did you find out?”

Blue eyes rose to meet Jack’s darker ones. “They mean love. Romantic. Pure.”

“Yeah, they do.” He turned away, not able to face the pit in his stomach that came with looking Davey in the eye. “Look, Dave, I’m busy. If you wanna mess with my feelings, please do it on your own time.” Jack’s eyes burned with tears he refused to shed. He was ready to deal with a lot, but Davey mocking him for his love? No.

“Jacky-”

“And stop fucking calling me that.” A ragged sigh escaped Jack’s mouth. “Dave, look. I appreciate you wantin’ to talk, and I guess mock me for havin’ feelings for you, but I ain’t- I can’t. See? I can’t. Ain’t that a familiar line.” He thought back to their last real conversation. _“I can’t do this.” “What’d ya’ say, Dave?” “This, Jacky- I can’t.” “You can’t_ what _, Davey?” “I can’t- what’s between us, Jacky. I can’t do it anymore.”_ It occurred to Jack that his jab may not have the intended effect if Davey didn’t also have the conversation burned into his mind the way Jack did.

“No, Jack, wait-” Davey dropped the flowers onto the bed, and in a heartbeat, he was kneeling in front of where Jack sat, hands on his biceps. Jack pretended he couldn’t feel the heat of Dave’s fingers press into his arms. “Please, let me explain.” Jack turned to face him, nodding to give him nonverbal permission. “I, I made a really stupid mistake-”

Jack promised himself he wouldn’t interrupt, but it took less than ten seconds for him to get riled up enough to speak again. “Jeez, Dave, you broke up with me already. I accepted it. You don’t have to go back and call the relationship a mistake. I already got that.”

“No, Jacky- sorry, Jack- that’s not-” Davey sighed, looking away. He tightened his grip on Jack’s arms and tried again. “I didn’t… I didn’t know we were dating.” Davey sounded almost ashamed, and Jack knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he did anyway.

“Okay, gotta say, Dave. That’s the best breakup excuse I’ve gotten in awhile.”

“It’s not an excuse Jack- I didn’t.” His fingertips traced patterns over Jack’s forearms. “We never talked about it, so I always assumed it was just physical. And so when I ended it-”

“When you ended it because you decided I wasn’t even good enough to be your fuckbuddy?” Jack didn’t want to be this argumentative. He wanted to hear Davey out, to know why he really ended it. But he couldn’t help it as the angry words spilled over his tongue. 

“When I ended it,” Davey continued as if Jack hadn’t spoken. Likely for the best. “I ended it because I was- because I _am_ in love with you, and it hurt too much to kiss you when I thought you didn’t love me back.” Jack froze, unable to comprehend the words tumbling from Davey’s mouth. _I_ am _in love with you_. Davey wouldn’t mess with him like that, Jack was sure. So that meant Davey- “I love you.” Davey repeated when Jack failed to respond. “I love you and you- the carnations, I thought- you… you love me?” Jack continued staring with his mouth open, probably looking like a dead fish. “Jacky?” The nickname was back and Jack didn’t mind- Jack was happy, because the nickname was said with love because _Davey loved him._

Jack leaned forward to wrap his arms around Davey’s shoulders, but moved too fast and ended up knocking them both to the ground in the process. He laughed as tears rose to his eyes and his head buried into Davey’s shoulder. “I love you. Fuck, Dave, I love you. Ain’t that- I really hope that’s clear. I love you so much.” His hand brushed across Davey’s cheekbone. “So all that time-”

“I didn't know,” Davey whispered against Jack’s hair; his voice was just as choked up as Jack’s. As he pressed their foreheads together, Jack could see tears trailing down either cheek, contrasting with the wide smile stretching across his face. “God, Jack, we’re idiots. It took Kath explaining the whole situation for me to get it.”

Jack was only barely aware that he was still basically lying on top of Davey. He rolled to the side, keeping a hand wrapped tight around Davey’s waist, not wanting to lose contact for a second. “Oh, Davey.” Jack carded a hand through his friend’s- boyfriend’s, more likely- hair, loving that he once again was able to. “How is the smartest guy I know also the most oblivious?” A laugh filled the space between them, and Jack decided he never wanted to see a thing besides Davey’s smile. “Dave, I think the whole world knew I was head over heels for ya. I practically told you myself a bunch a’ times.” 

“You should’ve.” Davey words were muffled as he pressed his lips to Jack’s cheekbone, hairline, jaw. “It would’ve saved us both a lot of heartbreak. And Kath from having to deal with you moping around.”

“I don’t mope,” He protested. Davey’s laugh was the only response he received. “Shut up, Dave.” He pressed his lips to the corner of Davey’s mouth, not wanting to initiate a real kiss yet. “So, are we boyfriends again?”

Davey’s hands were soft on the back of his neck as his fingers combed through the short strands of hair. “Yes, Jacky, we are.”

“Thank God.” Jack used his thumb to wipe away the tear streaks shining on Davey’s face. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?” 

“Please do.”

Jack had thought, a week prior, that he would never again feel the pressure of Davey’s lips against his own. But there they were, once more, lying amongst Jack’s art supplies on his wooden floor, kissing as if it was the only thing they knew how to do. Equally as desperate as the last, but this time, rather than signifying the end of something, it was a mark of a new beginning.

  
_Epilogue_

“Oh, Jack…” The heavy canvas was coarse in Davey’s hand, scratching against his fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

“A’ course it is.” Out of Davey’s peripheral vision, he could see his boyfriend glowing from the praise. “It’s you, and you’re beautiful.” Davey smiled and shook his head, moving closer to Jack so he could rest his head on Jack’s shoulder. Jack had often asked Davey to model for him, so much so that he hadn’t thought anything of it when Jack had last asked. He hadn’t expected Jack to come back to him, a few days later, brandishing said painting and announcing it as his flower project for class. 

The gentle paintbrush strokes collected into a side portrait of Davey’s face, heavy with contour and lighting, and eyes painted impossibly blue. Around his head was fashioned a crown of holly, coral roses, and red carnations. Davey couldn’t have previously imagined the three flowers looking so good together, but Jack had, like with so many parts of Davey’s life, made it beautiful.

“I ain’t really sure if it counts,” Jack confessed, slipping a hand around Davey’s waist to admire the painting with him. “I think it was supposed to _just_ be flowers, but I like this a lot better.”

Davey thought back on the last painting he’d seen of Jack’s, all wilted petals and dark colors, such a contrast to the light, happy feel of the one he held in his hands. His smile widened, because _he_ was part of that happiness that inspired Jack’s art. “I do too.” He leaned over and placed his lips against Jack’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Dave. I love paintin’ you.” Jack took the painting from Davey’s hands, fingers brushing over his wrist as he pulled away. “I gotta go; the teacher is makin’ us present these in front a’ the class.”

“Jack, it’ll be great.” 

Jack grinned. “I know.” After putting the painting down on the table, Jack lightly pressed his lips to David’s. “I love you.”

Davey smiled and took Jack’s face in his hands. He adored the way Jack looked at him- with the same gleam in his eyes that had taken Davey so long to identify, but know he knew. 

It meant Jack was happy to be with him, desired him, and most of all, loved him.

Davey pressed his forehead to his boyfriend’s, hoping Jack could see the same feelings mirrored in his own gaze.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So imagine like five years from the end of that story javid is getting married and kath goes up to give her best woman speech and she rants about how these dumbasses had no communication skills and would not be getting married if it wasn't for her  
> i love kath
> 
> anyway yay happy ending!!!! (really cheesy though- i'm sorry)  
> please give me validation because im not too happy about finals and i need y'all to boost my morale  
> or also creative criticism cause idk what I'm doing and I'm worried i'm losing my grip on characterization and that can't happen cause i have like 30000 more ideas for javid fics to write


End file.
